The Espresso Diaries

Friday, July 24, 2015

I'm starting to write at midnight with my family asleep in the next room and it all feels very familiar. As you're all probably aware, I haven't written in a while. No, not even stuff for myself, just me, that I've kept away from you all. Well, there is the occasional Goodreads review but does that really count? No, I didn't think so. Anyway, I've been actively trying to ignore the existence of this blog, passively letting it bury itself in the dredges that are anything but the top half of the page in Google search results for my name. Why, you ask? It started with distraction. Everything else in life grew more important. Other hobbies stepped in and demanded attention. I felt like I was spending too much time whining on my blog. A brief glance and you'd know my best writing was always when I was not feeling my happiest. I was making good art as Mr.Gaiman suggested but I didn't think it wise to let negativity fester in the artificial eternity we've created that is the cloud. So writing faded away. I also didn't want people who barely know me getting to read my innermost secrets by just Googling for me. It just felt very.... intrusive.

But this feels so natural, so organic. And looking back I'm not sure I'm any happier now than when I let my negativity supposedly fester, so I wonder why I ever stopped writing in the first place. Don't get me wrong, I'm exceptionally happy with life. But the day to day melancholia/boredom (Are they the same? They must be) remains.

So. Here I am.

I've been contemplating the meaning of home for a while now. And trying to decide where that is for me. And this feels like it. This act of writing at midnight with loved ones asleep but near by feels like it. And I'll take that. It plays well with my current theory that home for me will be multiple places and I'll just have to embrace it. So I'll take it. And I'll write my story by midnights.

Sunday, January 19, 2014

I have a list of things to do that are at varying levels of unpleasantness. And immediacy. And importance. And so I choose to not do any of them and instead find a way to distract and occupy myself for the next half an hour or so until I drift into a 'semi-guilty but whatever' sort of sleep. Hence this post.

I'm just back from a short 2-week vacation in Chennai and I've had a week's worth of jetlagged hazy days and answering questions that went along the lines of "so how was your India trip?" The problem with being an Indian and visiting India is there is no simple answer to that question. Usually I get back from a vacation from a new place and I'm gushing about it for days on end. With India, life gets murkier. There were things that have changed tremendously. New buildings. New people in the family. Much changed friends. Older people. Auto drivers respecting the meter. There were things that were exactly the same as they were when I last visited and that ought to have changed. Prices were still high. Roads were still bad. The house was still a confused mess. Random men still commented on my boobs as I walked to the bus stop. Visiting friends and family I hadn't seen in more than a year was amazing but also a reminder of how different all our lives are now. There have been weddings, births and deaths.

Add to that the fact that two weeks is a short period to recover from first-world withdrawal and get used to the Indian way of life. I find that the longer I live in the US, the steeper my adjustment curve to the rest of the world gets, even if the place in question is a place I've lived in for the largest part of my life. I find myself biting down on the urge to yell at the people in SBI as they send me running from counter to counter for a simple task, the people at BSNL when I call to complain about the internet, my parents for not making my vacation seamless. I find myself trying to accept that electricity, internet, water are not taken-for-granted always-available utilities. I find myself having to relearn old habits, which truly is a lot of fun, like turning the heater on a couple of minutes before a shower, passing money and tickets back and forth in the bus when standing next to the conductor, tucking the folded bus ticket under my watch to hold it in place, looking to make sure I don't step on my dog every time I get up from the couch, dialing up to connect to the internet with a data card, crossing the road when not being able to rely on the fact that as a pedestrian you will be given every right of way.

And when I had to leave, it was more painful than I could remember it being. It feels like every time I come and go, it gets progressively more difficult to leave. I remember packing silently in my room and wondering why we choose to complicate our lives this way- leave the place we grew up in to sink roots elsewhere and divide our lives to varying degrees between all these places that we have touched. I remember wondering, as I have wondered several times before, if there is a way to bundle all the people we love into a personal universe and take it with us wherever we choose to go. I remember wondering how life would have turned out if I'd stayed back or if I'd lived in a time when travel was forbidden, to never feel this sadness at leaving and to never know what I'd be missing out on.

Now life has settled back into its usual pace and rhythm. Almost. There are still things that need to be gotten used to- a new job, a new longer commute, a new schedule. I feel like an impostor most of the time at work and I have to force myself to say yes to new work and new people even though I am paralyzed with fear that I will mess up mostly everything. "Yes (I will figure it out)". "Yes (I will wing it)". "Yes (I will fake it till I make it)". I vaguely remember a time when I used to feel the same way in grad school. And before then, I remember feeling the same way in high school right after I switched schools. I don't remember how long it took in either of these cases to form a comfort zone or if I ever did. In small ways though, I have been putting myself through this new-place-new-activity jitters-in-the-stomach feeling all through last year. I felt this way when I walked into a french class and I realized I don't understand a word that was being spoken. I felt this way everyday I walked in to my crossfit class, in to a warehouse with loud music and iron clanging and sweaty, groaning, muscly people. This "what have I gotten myself into?" phase is apparently the place where life begins if several popular quotes are to be believed and for now I will take that with a side order of kool-aid please.

I hate being alone at home and not entirely convinced of it. I hate hearing noises in the floor above that should be deserted but doesn't sound like it in the middle of the night. I hate my involuntary peek in to the closet right before I switch off the lights. I hate how my friends would grin and make fun of me if I recount this to them. I hate wondering why I am this paranoid and not others as much. Does no one else read the news? Are you as paranoid? Do you always check to make sure the doors are locked, even in daytime? Do you make sure you have the keys in your hand as you start walking to your car across a dark parking lot? Do you have nightmares of being attacked in your house?

Wednesday, January 8, 2014

OkCupid has a question that asks you if you would rather your life be interesting or good. I chose good. But I can see how interesting could also be nice. 2013 has been interesting, sometimes in ways I would have rather had it not be. At the end of 2012, I drove down to San Diego alone and in my lonesome journey (alone, not lonely) I passed time by thinking about the year that was and planning for the year ahead. And 2013 has been good mostly because I did everything I told myself I would do in that drive with myself. And life gave the rest. 2013 has been the year of girl friends. All of 2012 I moped that I didnt have enough friends, in particular girlfriends. That worked itself out last year. 2013 was also the year I figured out I would stay in America all my life if I could. It took a fiasco with my H-1B for the realization to hit me in the face but I'm glad I did because life would have been so irresolute if not for that. 2013 was also the year when I finally decided to get off my butt and do something about the things I was not so happy about. It was the year of my first intended job switch. It was also the year when I decided I'd try online dating. 2013 was about major lifestyle changes- going Paleo, going Proactiv, going curly girl- and happiness with the results. It was the year for the loss of an aunt, an almost loss of a family dog, a year for the wedding of a cousin and another going off to college. It was the year for friends and accidents, friends and weddings, friends and career switches. It was the year for traveling, the year for old hobbies, for books and art and music, the year for reconnecting with some good old friends just as it was for falling off the good books of others. It was a good year and an interesting year. I couldn't have asked for more.

2013 was for self-realization. I realized I am a jealous person. That I was prone to fits of anxiety that I was not doing all that I could do, being all that I could be, living up to my potential, losing out on my slice of eudaimonic happiness. And seeing other people do all the things I could and should be doing sends me into swirls of panic. I realized most people, even the people I was jealousing on (that should be a phrase), go through this and I realize that should prove to me this is inconsequential and unnecessary. I also realized that happiness requires some effort and one is not just handed it on a platter. And that one must surround oneself with art and music and beautiful things to live a life with art and music and beautiful things. I realized my support network is best populated with people who are in the same places in life as I am. I also realized it is immensely rewarding to talk to other friends too once in a while and to see the people they have grown into and to be inspired by them. With that in mind, I realized that it's time for a new support network, that it's time for a new city. But that's for a later time. That's for 2014.

Sunday, April 7, 2013

Sometimes I channel Virginia Woolf. I read Jezebel and shake my fist at the world, I write inflammatory posts and delete them because I dont think the world is ready for me, I pick arguments with friends and smile as I tear them up.

Sometimes I channel crazy party girl. I drink till I'm almost sick, I dance on chairs and fall off them.

Sometimes I channel calm and content woman. I build a fire at the fireplace, I pull my beanbag over and sit in it with a book.

Sometimes I channel the classy socialite.

Sometimes I channel the whiny, needy friend.

Sometimes I channel the lets-do-it-all-yolo yuppie.

Sometimes I channel all at once.

Sometimes I dont know what I am. And thence are these moments of dissatisfaction- where I go through my entire contact list to find all my friends busy and finally give up and load the washer for lack of a better thing to do, where I leave a party early so I can come home and curl up in my bed to my friends' eternal confusion, where I play the Beatles on my guitar at midnight hoping the neighbors are out of town.

I am lounging on my bed, all dressed up for a night out on town, with my new hair highlights and my in-your-face Russian Red lipstick, bored and irritated, listening to my laundry swirl, staring at the books next to me- all of them great, none of them interesting now- wondering if I should eat.

Sunday, February 3, 2013

Note to readers: I know I haven’t
written in a long time. I can come up with an airheaded apology but I don’t know
whom I’m apologizing to. Probably myself, because writing is an extremely
fulfilling hobby. It helps you think things through, find solace in tiny black
letters appearing on a plain white page and, as I have often mentioned here and
which ultimately tipped me back over the edge to the world of penning, more
importantly, preserving memories. Not the stark ones, the extremely joyous trip
to , the time your boyfriend surprised you with , the
day you got married or gave birth or other important life checkpoints. You
probably have a facebook album for that anyway. Not even the days you were
depressed to your bones and couldn’t find anything in your life worth the
effort, if you would like to remember those sorts of things, maybe as a lesson
to future self. I am talking about those quiet sorts of memories that disappear
into dusty corners of your mind until a sudden snippet of a song or a flash of
a dress in a shop window or any other random sensory stimulus pulls it out for
a brief minute. The day you went walking in the park because you were bored,
the drive down I-5, the time when someone started that absolutely hilarious
conversation about horcruxes that lead you to a new perception of reality, that
one sunset…unless you have a facebook album for times like those too (which I
totally do not judge you for. I think any way of preserving memories is a good
way, even if they are on the racks of data centers of social networking
companies if not your own mind), those are moments lost for a really long time,
possibly forever. I only have to read some of my older posts on this same blog
to find validation to that claim. I have forgotten so much, so so much of the
years past, even though I thought I was invincible and that I’d never forget. I
look at faces in my friends list sometimes and I wonder how I know them and
sometimes people talk about incidents in the past and I wonder how I could ever
have forgotten that but I have. I repeat again my dear readers, writing is a
beautiful hobby to have.

*Huge breath*

I am in one of those phases that
you sometimes slip into even in the most splendid and best of days, where you
wonder about your life and you wonder if this is where you want to be. And you
feel sad because you seem to want to feel sad for yourself and the more you
think, the more you attract sad thoughts.

I am thinking now of
relationships, why it is so cold and whether I should buy a dog. The reason I haven’t
gotten a dog yet is because I somehow feel like I would betray my dog back home
in India. Another big reason is because I came to US with no intention of long
term stay. I gave myself 5 years here and I told myself I was going back. The
more I stay, the more this magical number of 5 multiplies. My roots here go
deeper and I sometimes wonder why I should go back at all. The only reason I see
is an inflated sense of patriotism where I think it is my duty to go back to India
and contribute to the future of the country, to take up the challenge of
democracy. Most days I wonder why that should be at the cost of personal
comfort, my lifestyle and my career. As Siddharth’s character in Ayudha Ezhuthu
said “I am an ordinary selfish person.” And with that comes ordinary selfish
thoughts. But I digress. A dog would mean deeper commitments to where I am
since I do not want to put any dog through the stress of uprooting homes and
international travel. Now that I am being more honest with myself, I can see
that I probably will not move for the next couple of years, so might as well.

With relationships- that entire
category in my pie chart of happiness (does anyone get the 30 Rock reference
here? Wasn’t the finale amazing? I’m going to miss it!) seems to be completely
unoccupied. I usually avoid conversations about relationships when friends ask.
“But what are your plans? What are you doing about it?” they would ask, and my
usual response would be a shrug of the shoulders and that would usually be
followed by a lecture on taking responsibility and initiative until the time
they give up. To those who have not been in the loop with regards to my life, I
realize I have to provide more detail. What my friends mean by responsibility
and initiative is to join an online dating site like Match or OkCupid. Since,
most of us do not believe in serendipity and meeting the love of your life in
the supermarket aisle or in the park while you are jogging, or believe that the
guy who is hitting you up at the bar is looking for anything more than a
one-night stand and since the only place you get to meet new and interesting
people these days is at work where everyone seems to be married or in a
relationship already, the only conceivable way to get into a relationship seems
to be by going online (If you know any other way, let me know). Sitting around
and waiting for time to happen is not an option. I was listening to a TED talk
by Judy Balan (you will find a link to her blog on the side) yesterday on
serendipity and letting life happen and I do not subscribe to that school of
thought. Yet. And if you are interested in why online dating is an
algorithmically superior way to meet the kind of people you want to meet, do
contact me and I shall provide you with a summary and conclusion of several
nights’ worth of discussions we have had about the same. But as much as I know
I should, I don’t think I have the mental makeup for online dating, yet. It requires
a certain objective decision-making and precision and walking away from sucky
decisions that I do not yet possess. So, in time, I tell myself and my friends.
In time. I wonder when that time shall come.

It is cold. Coldness clings to
everything it touches, like a skin on the carpet, on my bed linen and on my own
self. Spring is definitely coming, the days are growing longer, the hills that
surround the Valley are greening, I can go to bed without the heater cranked up
to high and some days, just some days, I can walk outside in the evenings
without an additional layer. But still the cold refuses to go away for good. Waiting
and waiting.

To people wondering about me, my
usual update: my life is pretty good. Do not let my whining post deceive you in
to thinking otherwise. Friends are amazing. I would not be lying if I told you
that I have finally found the friends I have always wanted to have, though it
sounds unfair to my previous friends. I am taking French classes since I am
bored (have I mentioned that before?) They are coming along fine though they
are taking a lot more effort on my part than I’d originally thought. I finally
joined the local library and I have been immersing myself in books since. And I
learnt a new life lesson in the process- to a reader, you never truly belong in
a place until you find a good source of books. And I finally belong. I am
developing new interests (wine) and renewing old ones (guitar). I am sticking
to my new year resolution of ‘get active, get healthy’. I am making travel
plans, trying to be more fiscally responsible and stop eating out so much. I am
getting back in touch with a lot of people I haven’t spoken to in ages. It’s a
slow process but a rewarding one. I sometimes feel overwhelmed like I won’t
have enough time to do all that I want to do but as a friend tells me, it’s a good
problem to have. Work is plateauing a bit but with the hope of picking up soon.
Car is amazing. House is great. Health is fine. But my doctor wants a pap smear
on record, so I am mentally preparing myself (deep breaths) to make that call
to fix that appointment.

Soon.

P.S. This is a new phase of
honesty in this blog. Its going to take an effort, but I stop giving abstract
hints about what is happening in my life or trying to sound cooler and nicer
than I am. The flipside is I am taking the link of my facebook page so if my
mother wants to stalk me and keep track of my daily ponderings and stress about
my mistakes, its going to be harder for her to do so. But hopefully this will
now be a near accurate record of the messed up state of my mind.

Sunday, October 28, 2012

I’ve been meaning to create a new blog for a while now, an
anonymous one, and write more freely and honestly about life as it is now, a
new blog that my old readers will know nothing about so I won’t be scandalizing
and as a result alienating my old friends and readers and quite possibly
members of my family. And then I realized what the heck, my family members have
proved to be a lot more resilient and open minded at most points in my life
than I gave them credit for and that the readers of my blog are changing just
as much as I am, so maybe, just maybe, my fears of this scandal-causing and alienation-happening
will come to pass. Anyway, just in case, I am taking the link to my blog off my
Facebook page and any other places I might have put it up and taking a plunge
to the deep side of the discovering-yourself-and-being-honest-about-it pool.